


My Fair(y) Gentleman

by incenseandteacups



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: I dunno?, M/M, fairy!Jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:26:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incenseandteacups/pseuds/incenseandteacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Eren have been friends since Eren was a child, but Jean's never been close enough for him to touch. There's a reason for this, of course - Jean is a fairy, and Eren is a human. No matter how strong their friendship was, it was never safe for Jean to come near....until something happens that changes Jean's life forever, and Eren is the only one who's there to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't think of a title? This is just a drabble, though, so I suppose it doesn't matter if the title is bad. I'm probably going to continue it in the future, I haven't decided, but anyway, here it is! It's a little cheesy, but I wrote it at 5 AM on my phone, so it's not as bad as it could be. Also, sorry if the format is weird, I'm having to set it up on mobile.

If someone were to ask me how I got into this relationship, I don’t know that I could explain it. I’ve known him since I was a child, talked to him beneath an oak tree and watched him do his work. He was always so beautiful, even if he never did come close to me, and I was content to gaze at him from afar.

Fairies are common here, but I’ve never heard of anyone other than me being friends with one. They’re reclusive, always avoiding humans. We’ve touched on the subject once or twice before, most recently when I was fourteen. I’ll admit, I was a little more sensitive about most things back then, but especially him always keeping his distance. We were friends, why was it I could never be near him? But after he told me why, I left it alone, and I don’t question him anymore…even if it still ticks me off, a little.

  
Jean. That’s the name he goes by, with humans, at least. His name in their language is nothing but wind chimes and bells, I wouldn’t be able to understand it, let alone recreate the sound. I’ve caught fleeting glimpses of his friends, but none of them are ever brave enough to come out in the open. I don’t mind, so much; I mean, humans do some terrible things to their kind. I hear that children have started to tear off their wings, show them off like some collector’s item - it sickens me. Jean’s wings are his life, if he ever lost them…I don’t think he’d be able to handle it. There’s not much sympathy, in his world, for fairies that lost their wings and didn’t die in the incident. They’re usually abandoned and left to find their own way - which often means they don’t survive. It almost reminds me of some awful practice from when I was a child, kids would kill fireflies and smear their blood on clothes. The liquid, whatever it was, glowed in the dark. I got in a fistfight once because of it.

  
“What are you looking so serious about?” I glance up. Perched on the top of a windowsill, looking down at me, is a person about three inches tall, golden wings shimmering behind him. I grin - he hasn’t showed up in a few days, I was starting to worry.

  
“Some asshole bug that I haven’t seen in awhile. Fireflies. A lotta things.” Jean snorts.

  
“You shouldn’t wrinkle your face up like that, you look like a gorilla. And don’t call me a bug.” As he talks, he slides down to lean against the window frame, wings folding behind him. He must be in a good mood, a taunt like that should have made him spark up at least a little. “Guess what?”

  
I yawn. Haven’t slept much lately…I should ask him about that, I bet there’s some weird magical remedy he knows. “What?”

  
“My niece flew today.”

  
I brighten up. “Really? That’s great! How’d she do?” He beams, and before I realize has fluttered down to the top of my chair, not a full foot away from my face. He’s balancing on the thin back, using that unnatural grace fairies have, but I’m more focused on how close he is than anything else. He’s never been within arms reach of me.

  
“She did perfectly, of course!” He crows. I wonder if he realizes what he’s done, pride shining on his face. “I’ve never seen a first-timer fly like that, she could probably outmaneuver me if she tried. She’s just as beautiful as he was, I swear it! And-” I guess the surprise I feel must show on my face, because he breaks off mid-sentence to look up at me, eyes wide as they meet mine. He’s so small…and so close. If I wanted to, I could reach out and brush his wings…

The silence is thick. He doesn’t seem to want to move away just yet, and so I chance lifting my hand. I don’t touch him yet, murmuring, “Can…can I…” His eyes flicker to my hand, and then back to my face. He takes a breath, and I watch his wings twitch in slight agitation.  “Yeah. Slowly.”

Given permission, I reach a little closer, not daring to breathe. My finger brushes against the top of his head, only just making contact, and his breath breath hitches at the same time his eyes close. His hair feels like silk. He’s scared. It’s easy to tell by the way he tries to set back his trembling shoulders, head down and fists clenched. My mouth goes into a firm line, and I promise myself to be the one human he can trust. My hand moves down, cupped behind his back, and he flinches when the pads of my fingers slide against velvety wings. He looks up at me, as though seeking some kind of reassurance, and I smile. “How am I doing?” I breathe. Talking at a normal volume when he’s this close doesn’t feel right.

Jean just stares at me, and then his face goes a bright red. I snicker. “You okay? You look like a cherry.” He splutters, starting to talk and freezing when his flaring wings hit against my hand.

  
“You just…smell weird, you jackass.” Jean mutters, but I can’t hide my amusement at the way he still refuses to look towards me. I feel warm inside, like jumping. After all these years…he finally trusts me.

  
“Thank you.” He pauses, then nods.

  
**

  
It’s been three days. I’m a little pissed, but more worried. Where is he? It’s unlike him say or do serious shit and then run off like that. What if something happened? None of his friends or family would let me know, they don’t trust me at all. I’m positive that most of them have told him at some point to stop being around me.

  
I grind my teeth, stepping out of the store with a bag of groceries in one hand. All I can do is hope I’ll see him soon; he never goes more than three or four days without stopping by at least once.

  
An odd noise catches my attention, a…tinkling, kind of sound. Like bells.

  
I glance to the source of the noise, and I see two boys crouched over something in the alley by the store. They’re muttering and laughing, hands doing something I can’t see. The noise continues, and my chest freezes when I place it.

  
A fairy.

  
I run forward, grocery bag splitting when it hits the ground. I grab both of their shirts to pull them away, tossing them on the ground behind me. I crouch, horror making my heart thump like it’s surrounded by mud, and my whole body cold. My greatest fear has come true.

  
It’s him. It’s Jean, lying beside two golden, torn-off wings, curled up with tears running down his face. I’m shaking, turning my head to scream at the monsters who did this, but they’re already gone. I didn’t see their faces, and later I realize this might be a good thing; I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t have killed them.

  
“Jean…Jean, love, it’s me…” I whisper. My trembling hands reach to pick him up to hold him close and safe where no one can hurt him again. But just as my fingers touch him, his eyes snap open, and he screams. It’s a sound I’ve never heard before or want to hear again, one of pain and terror, and I feel nauseous. He doesn’t recognize me. All he sees is another human, something else that will hurt him. I can’t breathe. He doesn’t see me. Seeing him hurt so much, be so afraid…I can’t stand it. This isn’t real, it’s impossible.

  
“Jean. Jean.” I repeat his name under my breath, a tearing feeling in my chest. Now, even though he struggles against me, I slide my fingers under him, cupping him in both palms to lift him up. He’s scratching at my palms, back twitching in spasms as he tries to fly without wings. He babbles frantic words I don’t understand, not looking in my direction, and tears pour down his face. “Jean, look at me. It’s me. It’s Eren.”  
He turns, stares at me. His eyes are sharp and frightened, like a trapped animal’s. In a quick, spastic motion, he draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He looks like he’s trying not to fall apart. I wonder through the pain in my chest; is it the pain that he can’t stand, or the fact that he’ll never fly again?

“Eren.” He whispers, and his voice sounds broken. His body wracks with a sob. “Eren.” I hold him a little closer, cupped against my chest as I begin to stand. After a slight hesitation, I gather up both of his shimmering wings, bent and torn in the dirt. I feel sick just touching them, standing and ignoring the fallen groceries as I start the walk home.

  
When I glance down at him, he’s pressed his face against me, hands gripping my shirt. The sun is setting, but I can still make out bruises on his arms, some shaped like fingertips. They look the size of cannonballs on his tiny frame - the sight sparks rage in me, but I keep my grip gentle.

  
When we reach my home, I step inside, flicking on the lights. My hand pulls away from my chest, and as I walk into my room I set him on the bed. I drop to my knees, just above eye level. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  
When he looks at me, there’s a purple smear of a bruise on the top of his cheek. My eyes are burning, but I try to keep a cool head - anger won’t help him now. “I’m…okay.” He croaks, and it sounds like the words hurt coming out. His eyes look glazed over and rimmed red. “I want to sleep.”

  
I stand, going to get him a blanket or something, but pause when he calls me. “E-Ere…Eren.” When I look back, he hesitates, and I’m finding myself infuriated by that sickly, fearful look he gets when I look at him. How monstrous must I seem to him, right now?

  
“Can…I just…I want to lay with you.” I blink. I’d have thought he’d want nothing to do with me…I’ve prepared myself to stay as far away as possible.

  
“I…alright.” I reach forward, to pick him up, but pause when he flinches. With a slight hesitation, I lift a finger to brush against the bruise on his cheek, the contact so light I’m not even sure I can feel it. He watches me with eyes I can see the masked fear in, eyes that look so dull compared to to their normal shine. Now that he’s out of immediate danger, it seems he’s just tired, and that’s almost worse. I take another moment to slide the pad of my thumb over his cheek, over the bruises on his arms…I’ve only seen him like this once. Even then, it wasn’t even close to the degree it’s at now. He doesn’t say anything else, leaning into my hand just a bit.

  
I pick him up, sliding my hand under him, and close the door. The sun is down, so it’s dark now, the almost-full moon shining halfway through a window. I pull the blanket to my bed away, sliding under it, and lay him on my chest as I settle back. My hand remains draped over him, like a shield from the rest of the world, and I hear him whisper something.

  
“Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More backstory, and from Jean's perspective! Yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful feedback! Comments are my lifeblood, even if I only get a few. I think this story might have one or two more installments - I've got a few ideas, at the very least.

If someone asked me how I got here, I don’t know that I could explain it. It started when I found a human child in the woods, crying over a dead butterfly. At first I’d thought he killed it - a child myself, It scared me, of course, but I was a little more reckless than I am now. I flew up right to his face to confront him. That moment, I realized two things; humans were impossibly big, and this one had eyes that seemed to hold endless colors. They left me mesmerized and terrified, word lost as I stared into pools of liquid gold, sapphire, emerald, even marble. They still enchant me, although I’d die before I told him that.

 

He had stared right back, tears gone and replaced with wonder. It was only when he lifted a hand toward me that I remembered myself, flitting away to the safety of a high tree branch. My heart was on fire, hot and fast as the sound of it filled my ears. He stood up, wiping his tears away, to look up at me. Now that I think about it, that was always a habit of mine - get to high ground. That’s the safest place when you have wings, after all.

 

"Did you…did you kill that butterfly?” The first words that I ever spoke to him were hesitant, called in a wavering time as I hid behind a leaf. He shook his head.

 

“No.” He replied shortly. His eyes were now a shimmering gold in the sunlight, intense and a little frightening. I’d never seen a human before, and to have one staring right at me…it was thrilling to my young heart.

 

"Then what happened to it?" I stepped out from behind the leaf, crouched a bit to fly if I needed. He smiled, just a little - because I wasn’t hiding?

 

"I think a bird got it. It flies around outside my house, so today I followed it. I chased the bird away, though." I frowned.

 

"You should leave it for the bird." I had responded, troubled. My mother made sure I knew to leave nature alone - we protected nature from humans, and aided the growth of plants when needed. We couldn’t interfere with the natural order of things, or it would all fall apart. As guardians of the forest, we could see both sides; the butterfly might have died, but the bird’s chicks would live another day.

 

He had, of course, flared up. “But the bird will eat it!” The argument that followed was the first of many, but it started a friendship that was stronger than any I had with even other fairies. Fairies are reclusive by nature; we don’t even know who our parents are. We can become what's like honorary siblings, but that's the farthest our emotional ties go.

 

I remember a few years ago - I’d just turned sixteen, and he would follow soon after. His face was bright red, determination and the barest hint of fear in his eyes. He had shouted his confession at me, standing in front of the oak tree where we met. I hadn’t known how to respond. I mean, a human and a fairy? It would never work! I couldn’t even go near him. So, I did something I regret to this day. I ran away.

 

It was a week before I came crawling back, perched on the windowsill and half-hidden as I looked for him. I waited for an hour, maybe longer, and almost flew off again when he walked in the front door. He looked…bad. Circles under his dulled eyes, every movement sluggish and forced. And then I suppose he saw my wings reflect sunlight, or something, because his eyes snapped to me, alert again. It was a little terrifying, to be honest - humans shouldn’t be able to see us that well.

 

I apologized. Returned his confession with my own scared, beaten-back feelings, and we made up. Not much changed right away, but gradually I began to get closer to him. We’d both slip in pet names or I-love-you’s in our goodbyes, and now, today, I’ve let him touch me for the first time.

 

At first, I didn’t realize I’d flown closer - I was so excited, caught up in my storytelling. But then I saw his eyes, widened and so large I could see my face reflected in them. And the chilling notion set in that if he wanted to, he could grab me right now.

 

What he did next, I think, made my decision; whether I’d stay there, or correct my mistake and return to safety. He lifted his hand, and I flinched, wings ready…but then he asked. Whispered a hesitant request that sent air rushing by me, words that my closeness amplified. My heart was thumping at such a speed that it hurt, and while I was afraid, it wasn’t just fear that was making my blood heat up.

 

Now, his touch is soft, softer than I’d imagined a human could be, but it still sends sparks down my spine. He brushes the pad of his finger against my hair, and then slides his hand down over my back. The sensitive, velvety wings that he’s now in contact with twitch, tingles running through my back, down my legs and arms. He’s so huge, and his presence sends conflicted signals through me. I want to escape, but at the same time...I never want to move away.

 

My face burns, and the blaring silence continues until he sniggers and points it out. The normalcy returns as we have another, albeit mild argument.

 

**

 

Everything hurts.

 

My breath is forced out of me when I’m caught by a thick hand, one of my wings cracking at the pressure. It feels like they're I'm being beaten, poked at and turned over, knocked into the dirt. When I flare my wings to escape, there’s a giggle that sends sickening fear through me. I’m grabbed again, held still. My frenzied struggles increase when two fairy-sized fingers grasp a wing. “No, no, no, leave them alone! Get away from me! No!” I scream, and my mind is so clouded with fear I don’t know what language I’m speaking. Everything feels cold and overwhelming, and then the tearing begins. I shriek my agony in a voice that sounds like bells, chanting desperate pleas and calls for someone, anyone to save me. It hurts. I’ve never imagined a pain like this could exist, knives stabbing into my back and all over my body. Something’s dropped next to me, and it takes time for the image to sink in. I have a moment to stare incomprehensibly at a golden wing lying in the dirt, before the pain begins anew.

 

When it’s over, I’m released. My legs feel numb, circulation cut off from them, and I’ve never used them much anyway; I collapse as soon as I’m left to stand on my own. Tears are tracking through the dirt on my face, and I curl up, shaking through the agony that I still feel. I hear more movement, flinching and tensed with the anticipation of more torture. There’s a ringing in my ears, and I open my eyes just enough to see the blurred form of another human, this one even larger. Gargantuan hands reach for me again, and the dread in me builds up at the thought of one of them, touching me. I want to vomit. Instead, I close my eyes again, trying to escape the reality of my situation.

 

The moment I feel it make contact, I’m set off. My scream isn’t in either of our languages, terror and agony carried in one shrill, ear-piercing note. When the human goes to pick me up, I’m fighting, scratching at his hands and trying to reach the ground again. It doesn’t make any difference. My instincts are forcing my back into painful spasms, muscles contracting to move wings that aren’t there. I feel bare. Exposed.

 

I’m crying again. “Please, please leave me alone! Give me my wings back, give them back, don’t hurt me anymore, please…!” I’m longing for something, and as soon as I place who it is, I hear his voice.

 

"Jean, look at me. It’s me. It’s Eren." I turn to stare at him, relief and shame burning within me. He’s here. They can't hurt me anymore. But then, what good am I now? I’m a fairy without wings. "Eren." I don’t have any purpose. They'll abandon me. I want him to hug me, kiss me , tell me it’ll be alright. But even that's impossible. "Eren."

 

I’m held against his torso, and there’s some more shifting and moving around that I don’t have the energy to care about. I bury my face in his shirt, grabbing handfuls if the fabric as I inhale his scent and listen to his heartbeat. I ache all over, but I’m beginning to feel numb; I can’t bring myself to care about this physical pain.

 

When we reach his home, he’s quick to set me down. He lowers so that I can look into his eyes, and I feel some small rise of emotion at seeing how pained he looks. There's rage and concern, burning just below his surface, and for a moment I wonder why. I'm nothing but a disgrace, now. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” At first I think he only means my wings, but I see his eyes focused on something else - a bruise on my arm, enormous and deep purple. Tender skin on my face lets me know there are more.

 

I try to gather my strength and speak. My voice, always so smooth and lilting, is now rough from screams, and talking hurts. “I’m…okay.” I manage. After another pause, I add, “I want to sleep.” He nods, but to my alarm rises and starts to leave. The idea of being alone, now, is terrifying. What if they come back? Even if they don’t, I don’t want to wake up on my own in this dark, vast expanse of a room. I try to call him, panic slowing my mind and tongue. “E-Ere…Eren!” I blurt. He looks back at me, and an electric shock of fear stills me. Humans are truly terrifying, even the one I love. I muster up the bravery to make my request. “Can I…I just…I want to lay with you.”

 

The irritation that had flashed on his face disappears, replaced by surprise. I wait for a reply, back twitching every so often as damaged muscles begin to still. “I…” I tense. “Alright.” He reaches forward - to pick me up, presumably, but the sight of a looming hand sends jolting memories back through me. I stiffen, a cold rush of remembered panic coursing through my blood, and he freezes. His hand isn’t even an inch away, huge and threatening.

 

My eyes move to his face, where he’s watching me with a curious blend of emotion. His hand shifts, lifting his thumb to trace my cheek. Like before, I’m surprised at the degree of gentleness, the touch soothing and warm. His fingers, each larger than my entire body, are slow, easing their way down my arms and over violet bruises. I shiver, and then lean my cheek into the contact, a quiet sigh of exhaustion leaving me.

 

His hand goes under me to pick me up, and while it makes me uneasy, I somehow feel…safe. There’s sliding fabric, a lot of it, and we tilt until I’m laying on his chest, blanketed by one colossal hand. His heart beats against my side, the heavy thud vibrating heat through my entire body. My eyes won’t open.

 

"Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean walks. Fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't consider this an actual chapter, it's super short.

"I think it's time you walk." I don't think the suggestion is worth the incredulous look he gives me, but he seems quite offended. 

I know it's inevitable, but really, I'd think he could figure it out himself. When I hear him say it, I have to keep myself from sighing withe exasperation. "Why?" 

"Because it's been nearly two weeks, and you haven't even taken a step. I can't carry you around for the rest of your life, and besides, your legs are gonna get all shriveled up and weird." I point out, rolling over onto my back and staring at the ceiling. 

He takes the initiative to press his back against my cheek, and I can practically see the indignant scowl he's wearing. Slowly, I turn my head, so my lips are pressed against his back, and when my breath lets out warm against him he shivers. His wings were sensitive before, and now I suppose that's transferred into his back. "C'mon, Jean, babe. Don't pout." 

"I'm not pouting!" Comes his snapped reply. "I just...I'm gonna look stupid. Walking is for elves and mushroom trolls, not fairies. And I'm all unbalanced." The last sentence is muttered, bitterness tracing thick in his voice, and I sigh against him. He's impossibly delicate, and I can feel his breathing, just a touch quicker than mine. 

I shift up onto one elbow, snorting when he yelps and falls backwards. He stares up at me, beautiful even without his wings, and his face flushes. I still catch him flinching when I touch him unexpectedly, or starting when he wakes up laying in a human's bed beside the human himself; but for the most part, his fear of me is gone. I lean down, pressing my lips to his middle, and the scowl on his face becomes more and more strained until he lets himself smile, pushing softly against my nose. "Stop it, your breath stinks!" He protests, but there's a laugh in his voice. 

In reply, I blow a small stream of air at his face, watching his hair fly back. I'm surprised when, instead of making more grumpy (and rude) remarks, he sits up, and presses a fast kiss to my bottom lip. 

I'd never realized something so small could paralyze me, looking at him with wide eyes and rapidly warming cheeks. He laughs, and a slow grin spreads across my face. "I hate you." I mumble, but I'm entirely unconvincing. 

He laughs harder, leaning up farther to kiss the tip of my nose. "Well, I love you, you big asshole." Oh my god. I'm dying. He's never said that before. But I can't get distracted, there's a certain mischief in his eyes that says this isn't a coincidence. 

"And I love you too. Now let's walk." He groans. 

**

About an hour later, Jean is the whiniest I've ever heard him. He's standing on my kitchen table, legs trembling and holding onto my index finger like a lifeline. 

"Can't we stop?" He pleads, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to give in at the pitiful look he gives me. 

"No. We can stop when you stand on your own for five seconds." 

"Five?" He says incredulously, like it's impossible. I nod. 

"You ready to let go?" He grumbles something, furrows his brows, and finally gives a reluctant nod, pulling his hands away and holding his arms out a bit. His expression is strained with concentration, the quivers in his legs growing stronger and stronger, and I count in my head. Three...two...one... "Done!" I exclaim, and as he collapses back I'm ready to catch him in an open palm. "Was that so hard?"

He collapses back onto my fingers. sweat dripping down his cheek. "Yes. Dick." My soft hum of pride is the only response he gets, standing from the table and holding him close to my midsection. 

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't want to eat fresh elderberries that were gathered by a dick." He doesn't sit up, but copper eyes flash open.

"Elderberries?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Fresh?"

"Picked them while I was out this morning."

"Give them to me. Dick." I laugh. 

"I love you, Jean."

At first, I don't think there'll be a reply. When it comes, though, it's mumbled, quiet. 

"Love you too."


End file.
